CHAPTER 4 — THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
CHAPTER 4 — THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The door opened.
Slowly.
Almost politely.
Julian stood frozen beside his father's desk.
Martha was behind him.
Bianca was near the window.
And then the man stepped into the study.
Julian's breath disappeared.
The face was older.
Much older.
The hair that had once been dark was now almost completely gray.
There were deep lines around the eyes.
A scar ran from his left temple toward his jaw.
But there was no mistaking him.
Richard Hale.
Julian's uncle.
The man who had supposedly died fifteen years ago.
The man whose funeral Julian had attended.
The man whose ashes Martha had scattered beside his brother's grave.
Richard looked at Julian and smiled.
“You've grown.”
Julian couldn't speak.
Martha whispered:
“No…”
Richard closed the door behind him.
“Yes.”
Her voice trembled.
“You're dead.”
Richard laughed quietly.
“Apparently, I wasn't.”
Julian finally found his voice.
“You died.”
“No.”
“You died in a plane crash.”
“That was the story.”
“You were identified.”
“By dental records.”
Julian stared at him.
Richard shrugged.
“Dental records can be manipulated.”
Julian's mind raced.
Everything he had believed about his family was collapsing at once.
His father's death.
His uncle's death.
Bianca.
Victor Laurent.
The money.
And now this.
Richard looked at Bianca.
“You brought him the photograph.”
Bianca nodded.
Richard's expression darkened.
“I told you not to.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Bianca stepped forward.
“You were supposed to stay away from him.”
“And you were supposed to marry him.”
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“Enough.”
Both of them looked at him.
Julian pointed toward Richard.
“Start talking.”
Richard smiled.
“You sound like your father.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because your father trusted the wrong people.”
Julian stepped closer.
“And you were one of them.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“You have no idea what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
Richard looked at Martha.
“She never told you?”
Julian turned toward his mother.
Martha was crying.
Richard sighed.
“Of course she didn't.”
He walked toward the desk and looked at the old photographs.
“This family has survived for twenty-two years by burying the truth.”
Julian said:
“I'm done burying it.”
Richard looked at him.
“Then you're going to have to survive it.”
Richard pulled a chair from the corner.
He sat.
Julian remained standing.
“Your father and Victor Laurent were partners,” Richard began.
“I know.”
“No.”
Richard shook his head.
“You know the version your mother allowed you to know.”
Julian's jaw tightened.
“What version?”
“That Victor stole forty-seven million dollars.”
“Didn't he?”
“Yes.”
“Then what am I missing?”
Richard leaned forward.
“Your father helped him.”
Julian said nothing.
“He helped move the money.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor threatened Martha.”
Julian glanced at his mother.
Richard continued.
“Victor had information on your father. Financial crimes. Tax fraud. Illegal transfers. Enough to destroy him.”
“So Dad was blackmailed.”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Richard's face hardened.
“Later, your father became greedy.”
Martha whispered:
“Richard.”
He ignored her.
“Your father discovered that Victor was using shell companies to move money offshore. Instead of exposing him, he joined him.”
Julian shook his head.
“No.”
“He did.”
“My father wasn't a criminal.”
Richard gave him a tired look.
“You want your father to be a hero.”
“He was.”
“He was a man.”
The words struck harder than Julian expected.
Richard continued.
“Your father made terrible choices. Then he regretted them.”
Julian looked at the photograph on the desk.
“And Bianca?”
Richard's eyes shifted toward her.
“She was collateral.”
Bianca's face hardened.
“I wasn't collateral.”
“You were a child.”
“I knew what my father was doing.”
“You knew enough to be afraid.”
Bianca said nothing.
Richard turned back to Julian.
“Victor discovered that your father had begun keeping copies of the transactions.”
“The evidence.”
“Yes.”
“And he wanted it back.”
“Desperately.”
“Then Dad was killed.”
Richard nodded.
“Your father was planning to expose Victor.”
“Why didn't he?”
“Because he discovered Victor had another weapon.”
Julian waited.
Richard said:
“You.”
Julian's stomach dropped.
“Me?”
“You were nineteen.”
Richard looked toward Martha.
“Your father knew Victor would kill you if he went public.”
Martha whispered:
“He threatened to.”
Richard nodded.
“So your father tried to negotiate.”
“With Victor?”
“With everyone.”
Julian looked at Bianca.
“And she was part of it.”
Richard's eyes hardened.
“Bianca was supposed to get the evidence.”
Julian frowned.
“Why her?”
“Because Victor trusted his daughter.”
Bianca spoke quietly.
“He didn't.”
Richard looked at her.
“He thought he did.”
She shook her head.
“He never trusted anyone.”
Julian noticed something.
The way Richard and Bianca looked at each other.
There was history there.
Something deeper.
“You two knew each other before I met her.”
Neither answered.
Julian's voice sharpened.
“How long?”
Richard sighed.
“Since she was seventeen.”
Julian looked at Bianca.
She lowered her eyes.
“What were you doing with my uncle?”
Richard answered.
“Training her.”
“For what?”
“To survive her father.”
Bianca looked up.
“I didn't need training.”
“You were a frightened child.”
“I stopped being frightened a long time ago.”
Richard stared at her.
“That is what worries me.”
Julian's hands curled into fists.
“Why did she come after me?”
Richard looked at him.
“Because Victor couldn't.”
Julian's expression changed.
“Victor is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then who is giving Bianca orders?”
Richard didn't answer.
Julian repeated:
“Who?”
Richard stood.
“That's the question.”
Bianca whispered:
“Someone who has been waiting for you to discover the truth.”
Julian looked again at the photograph.
It was old.
Yellowed around the edges.
Four people stood outside an enormous stone building.
His father.
Richard.
Martha.
And Victor.
But there was something else.
A woman stood several feet behind them.
Julian hadn't noticed her before.
He picked up a magnifying glass from the desk.
He leaned closer.
The woman's face was partially hidden by sunglasses.
But her hair.
Her posture.
The shape of her jaw.
Julian's heart began pounding.
“Who is she?”
No one answered.
“Who is the woman?”
Martha looked away.
Richard's face became expressionless.
Bianca stared at the photograph.
Julian turned toward them.
“I asked a question.”
Bianca finally whispered:
“Her name was Elena.”
“Elena who?”
“That's all I know.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
Bianca looked at him.
“You know more.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“Not now.”
Julian stepped between them.
“Who is Elena?”
Richard looked at the photograph.
“She was your father's attorney.”
Julian frowned.
“Why was she there?”
“She wasn't just his attorney.”
“What was she?”
Richard remained silent.
Martha answered.
“She was his first wife.”
Julian froze.
“My father was married before you?”
Martha closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You never told me.”
“You were too young.”
“I was nineteen when Dad died.”
“I couldn't tell you everything.”
“Apparently not.”
Julian looked back at the photograph.
“How long were they married?”
“Three years.”
“And then?”
“They divorced.”
“Why?”
Martha didn't answer.
Richard did.
“Because Elena discovered the money.”
Julian stared.
“What money?”
“The forty-seven million.”
“But Victor stole it.”
Richard shook his head.
“Not all of it.”
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“What are you saying?”
Richard reached into his coat.
He removed a small envelope.
He placed it on the desk.
“This.”
Julian opened it.
Inside was a bank statement.
An account.
A number.
Transfers.
Dates.
Names.
Then he saw the final recipient.
HALE FAMILY TRUST.
Julian's blood ran cold.
“That can't be.”
“It is.”
“My father didn't take the money.”
“He took some.”
“How much?”
Richard answered quietly.
“Eleven million.”
Julian stared at the document.
“Where did it go?”
“Your mother's account.”
Julian looked at Martha.
She shook her head immediately.
“No.”
“Mom…”
“I didn't know.”
“You're listed as the beneficiary.”
“I didn't know what it was.”
“You didn't ask?”
“I trusted your father.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“That was everyone's mistake.”
Martha looked at him.
“Don't.”
“You knew something was wrong.”
“I knew he was frightened.”
“You knew.”
“I knew he was trying to protect Julian!”
Richard's voice rose.
“And you thought that justified everything?”
Julian stepped between them.
“Stop.”
The two fell silent.
Julian looked at the statement again.
His hands trembled.
“Eleven million.”
Richard nodded.
“Your father moved it before he died.”
“To where?”
“An offshore trust.”
“Whose?”
Richard looked at Bianca.
“Hers.”
Julian turned.
Bianca's face had gone pale.
“What?”
Richard continued.
“Your father moved the money into an account controlled by Bianca.”
Julian stared at her.
“You knew?”
Bianca shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why did Dad put it there?”
“Because he trusted me.”
Julian laughed once.
A broken sound.
“You're telling me my father trusted the woman who was sent to destroy me?”
Bianca's eyes filled with tears.
“He didn't know what I would become.”
“What does that mean?”
She stepped closer.
“I was supposed to take the money.”
“But?”
“But I never did.”
Julian stared.
“Why?”
“Because I found out what Victor planned.”
“What?”
“He wasn't trying to steal your family's money.”
She swallowed.
“He was trying to erase your family.”
Julian's blood ran cold.
“Explain.”
Bianca looked at Martha.
“Your father wasn't the first Hale Victor tried to destroy.”
Julian frowned.
“Who was?”
“Your grandfather.”
Silence.
Richard nodded.
“Victor had been fighting your family for decades.”
“Why?”
“Because of a property.”
“What property?”
Richard pointed toward the photograph.
“The building behind us.”
Julian looked at it.
An enormous stone structure.
He recognized it.
His family had owned it once.
The Hale Grand Hotel.
It had been sold twenty years ago.
At least, that was what he had been told.
Julian whispered:
“Why does it matter?”
Richard answered:
“Because your grandfather never actually sold it.”
Julian stared at him.
“What?”
“The deed was transferred.”
“To whom?”
Richard looked directly at Bianca.
“To the Laurent family.”
Julian's heart stopped.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
Richard walked to the window.
“Your grandfather discovered that the Laurents had been manipulating the city's property market.”
“So he fought them.”
“Yes.”
“And lost.”
“No.”
Richard turned.
“He won.”
Julian stared.
“Then why did the Laurents get the building?”
“Because someone inside your family betrayed him.”
“Who?”
Richard looked at Martha.
Martha began crying.
Julian's voice dropped.
“Mom.”
She shook her head.
“I was young.”
“Who?”
Martha covered her face.
Richard answered for her.
“Your grandfather's daughter.”
Julian stared.
“My mother.”
Martha whispered:
“I thought I was saving your father.”
Julian's chest tightened.
“You sold the property.”
“I didn't know what Victor would do.”
“You gave it to him.”
“I thought he would leave us alone.”
“And did he?”
Martha looked at him.
“No.”
Julian stepped away.
Everything connected.
The money.
The photograph.
His father's death.
Bianca.
Victor.
The missing hotel.
His mother.
His uncle.
All of it.
But one question remained.
“Where is Elena?”
Richard's face changed.
“She died.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Julian frowned.
“Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“That's when Bianca returned.”
Richard nodded.
Julian looked at Bianca.
“You knew her.”
“Yes.”
“What did she tell you?”
Bianca's eyes filled with tears.
“She gave me something.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
“From Elena?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
Bianca reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
Julian took it.
The handwriting was unmistakably his father's.
But the letter was addressed to someone else.
Bianca.
Julian read the first line.
If you're reading this, Elena is dead and Victor believes I am dead.
He looked up.
“Dad wrote this after his supposed death.”
Richard nodded.
“He wasn't dead when he wrote it.”
Julian's heart stopped.
“What?”
Richard said nothing.
Julian looked at Bianca.
“When did my father write this?”
Bianca whispered:
“Three months after the accident.”
Julian felt the room spin.
His father had been alive.
For three months.
After the family funeral.
After everyone believed him dead.
After Martha had told Julian she had watched his body disappear into the ground.
Julian looked at his mother.
“Mom?”
Martha couldn't meet his eyes.
“Where was Dad?”
She began sobbing.
Richard answered.
“In Paris.”
Julian turned toward the window.
Paris.
The same city shown in the photograph.
The same city where his uncle had supposedly died.
The same city where Bianca had lived.
He suddenly understood why Bianca had demanded the photograph.
It wasn't evidence of the past.
It was a map.
A map to the place where his father had hidden the final truth.
Julian turned toward Bianca.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Before she could answer, the lights went out.
The mansion plunged into darkness.
Martha screamed.
A second later, every security alarm began to howl.
Julian grabbed his phone.
No signal.
Bianca whispered:
“They're here.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the study door.
“The people your father was running from.”
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Glass shattered.
Then footsteps.
Several pairs.
Moving through the mansion.
Richard reached inside his coat.
Julian stared.
“Do you have a gun?”
Richard looked at him.
“Yes.”
Martha whispered:
“Richard…”
He pulled it out.
“Stay behind me.”
Julian grabbed Bianca's arm.
“Where is the exit?”
She pointed toward a concealed panel behind the bookshelf.
“There.”
Richard stared at her.
“How do you know?”
Bianca didn't answer.
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“You've been here before.”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
Bianca whispered:
“More than you know.”
Another crash sounded downstairs.
Richard pushed the bookshelf open.
A narrow passage appeared.
Julian looked at Bianca.
“You knew this house had a secret passage.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Bianca's face was pale.
“Because your father showed it to me.”
Julian froze.
“What?”
Bianca stepped into the passage.
“Your father is alive.”
The world stopped.
Julian stared at her.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Where is he?”
Bianca looked back.
“Paris.”
“Why hasn't he come home?”
Her voice dropped.
“Because if he comes home…”
She looked toward Martha.
“…they'll kill everyone.”
The footsteps reached the study door.
The handle began to turn.
Julian stepped into the passage.
Richard followed.
Martha came next.
Bianca remained behind for one second.
She looked at the photograph on the desk.
Then whispered:
“It's time.”
She shut the hidden door.
The study door burst open.
But the four of them were already gone.
And somewhere beneath the mansion, Julian finally understood the terrible truth.
His father's death had been a lie.
His mother's secrets had been deeper than he imagined.
May you like
And Bianca Laurent had not entered his life to destroy his family.
She had entered it because someone else already had.
